


From An Admirer

by TallFlower



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Cute, Friends to Lovers, Growing Old, Hanzo has a bit of trouble with it and I just want to tag it JUST in case, Implied Relationships, M/M, Melancholy, Pre-Recall, Secret Crush, Swearing, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, there's a few parts that are a bit sad but don't worry it's all cute crap after that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9859463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallFlower/pseuds/TallFlower
Summary: Eight years after recall, Jesse receives a bouquet of flowers and tries to find out who sent them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> What started as a simple fix-up of an old fic became an entire re-write of the story. I’m sorry for the fans of the old version (more below) but me, personally, I feel like this was the story I wanted to do but couldn’t at the time.

While Jesse didn't have any preconceived ideas about how his Valentine's Day would go, he certainly wasn't expecting to get flowers.

The gunslinger entered the common room in passing, his thoughts set on getting some morning chow before his training with Hanzo and Zenyatta began. He was already a few minutes late, so he was still wrapping his serape and tucking in his shirt when he entered. _God they're gonna shoot me if I don't move faster than grass through a goose._

He gave a quick glance over at the seating area where Lúcio and Angela were on the couch while Mei was sitting cross legged on the floor. On the table they crowded around was a gorgeous bouquet of flowers within a glass vase. The batch of white lilies and orchids was tied together with a lovely red bow and everything.

The training would just have to wait.

“Well aren't they as pretty as a picture,” he cooed as he walked over. When he was closer he saw Lúcio holding a little card in his hands. “Where did these come from?”

Beside him Angela was slouched with a small pink bag filled with tiny heart-shaped chocolates. Both her eyes were shut, taking in the flavour. Probably a gift from her many admirers at the Watchpoint. She lazily opened an eyelid as soon as he spoke. Quickly swallowing she said, “We found them when we came in. They were left here overnight, it seems.”

Jesse couldn't help but gently caress one of the white petals with a metallic hand. Even if he couldn’t feel it, he knew it must have felt like petting a cloud. “Aw, ain't that a nice gesture.” He leaned onto the armrest, peering down at the flowers. He inhaled deeply, catching the sweet scent.

He was an ace-high in Overwatch. Known for being tough and wild. He didn’t like to talk about it in fear of ruining his slick ‘cool guy’ reputation. But he had always been partial to the gentler types of flora. Only a handful of people knew about his love of lilies in particular. They were kinda like marmite in a way; people either adored their intense fragrance or couldn't abide it. Sort of like himself.

He nudged Lúcio’s shoulder with his elbow when he pulled himself back up. “So, who’s it from, lover boy? Is it from one of your adorning fans? A close friend? An enemy?” He wiggled his eyebrows before saying the most likely answer. “ _A certain omnic monk…?_ ”

Unexpectedly Lúcio stared up at him, shaking his head. “Ah, nah, man,” he said, handing over the card. “These aren't for me.”

He took the card, smirking. “Really, now,” he said, his eyes beginning to scan over the small writing. “Then who’s the lucky—” His mirth faded and his words got caught in his throat as soon as his eyes read the text.

 

_To Jesse McCree_

_Merry Valentines._

_From, an admirer_

 

The message was written in black pen. Tiny, neat capital letters. On first glance it appeared to be more of a business card rather than one of adoration. There were signs it was written in haste – the last few letters became sloppier, especially the ‘ _i_ ’.

Jesse stood there for a while, squinting and turning the piece. No matter how long he stared he couldn’t recognize the scrawl.

“An admirer, McCree!” Mei squealed, bouncing her legs like a pair of wings. Though she was technically the oldest out of all of them, the climatologist still held tightly to her childish nature. “They gave you your favourite flowers and everything! They must have left it here for you to find it.”

“Aw,” Angela said before popping another chocolate in her mouth. “That’s adorable.”

Mei let out a long sigh, clasping her hands together and pressing them to her cheek. “And _romantic_ ,” she exclaimed, fluttering her eyes. He swore there may as well have been hearts in her eyes. “Do you think they were too shy to give it in person?”

“Who’d’ve thought? Old Eastwood still has it,” Lúcio mused. Now he was the one to throw a soft punch into McCree’s arm. As soon as bone met metal, the musician cringed and shook the hand away, cradling the injured limb.

Jesse took barely any notice about their jests. He read the light pink parchment again and again. Unable to process what had just happened.  

“Nah. This must be a joke or somethin’,” he finally managed to croak. Jesse shrugged, looking at the trio before him. He forced out a laugh. “Just someone pulling my leg again. I mean, c’mon, who’d seriously give me Valentines stuff?”

They didn't join in on his laughter. The three of them froze, staring at him with brows raised. They all took a quick glance at one another before looking back at him. A glance that clearly said, _Is he alright?_

“ _Someone_ clearly has,” Lúcio said, gesturing to the flowers.

No matter what they said Jesse didn’t believe them. Though he had no proof that what they said was false, he knew better. It just didn’t wash; there was no possible way the flowers and the note were genuine. He had seen this trick before – played by young Blackwatch recruits back in the early days. Wasn’t amused by it then and wasn’t now.

He was going to throw the flowers away, along with the note, however Mei and Angela hung off his arms until he begrudgingly took the vase off the table so he could set it somewhere safe. He decided to place them on the windowsill in the kitchen. While chewing on some toast, he parked himself on the counter, watching the flowers soak up the fresh water he had poured for them.

 _When you lose, don't lose the lesson._ A motto he stood by fiercely. And one he told himself over and over again when he tossed the note in the trash when no one was looking before heading off to training.

No matter how many times he hit the bullseye, his mind wouldn't rest.

“...And that’s all it said on the card?” Zenyatta had asked when he had told him and Hanzo about the mysterious gift he received.

The two were sitting by the wall as McCree reloaded his gun. The omnic’s fans hummed as he levitated a few inches off of the ground while Hanzo sat in total silence on his knees, watching precariously as Jesse raised his hand once more to shoot six bullets in the centre of the bullseye.

“Yea, that’s all they wrote, the bastards,” he said, turning on his heels and jamming a thumb at the target. “Your turn.”

“Very well.” Zenyatta sat straighter as he glided past the gunslinger, his hands already pressed together front of his chest and the orbs around his neck began to spin. He didn’t know the monk that well, but years of seeing him in action taught Jesse to always play on his good side. Though he didn’t look it, Zenyatta could be a right dickens to fight against.

As the omnic’s arms began to slice the air, shooting one orb at a time towards the bullseye, McCree slithered down on his haunches beside Hanzo. His head was dipped forward as he looked down at his bow, his hands trying to tie one of the blue ribbons that had fallen loose around the lower limb. A curtain of long, greying hair hid his face from view. He had been silent all morning – a little uncharacteristic of him. Normally Hanzo would pipe up with small critiques about his form, or suggestions on new exercises they could try.

“Anyone home in there?” Jesse asked, patting his shoulder with his right hand. The archer’s head bopped up, revealing two black rings beneath his eyes.

That answered his questions. Another rough night. It happened; from time to time Hanzo would wake up from his sleep, and wouldn’t be able to rest until the next night. Some people thought it was funny when it happened. In a way it was pretty amusing to see the infamously stoic Shimada brother to morph into a thoughtless zombie. However, Jesse knew better. Knew the reason why Hanzo couldn’t go back to sleep.

He found out about it shortly after arriving to Gibraltar. Seemed like centuries ago, when he looked back on it. Jesse was one of the last ones to answer Winston’s recall. They had found him hiding in Deadlock gorge, trying to snuff out the last few members of his old gang. He was as thin as a whip and smelled worse than a ditch, but he still had to be convinced by Lena. He couldn’t say no to that face. It was too chubby. And filled with optimism. 

Sleep avoided him on those first few nights. He had grown restless. Grown too used to constantly traveling. No matter what way he turned in the bed he didn't feel right on his skin. Didn’t help none when he found out the identity of one of their new recruits.

Admittedly Jesse stood with the masses on his opinion of Hanzo Shimada. There was no way he could ever see this assassin, this asshole, as a partner. He knew it was a bad decision, hiring him. It was setting them up on the same road as before. The one he voided by leaving Blackwatch and Overwatch in the first place.

The archer was nothing but brutal on the battlefield – especially with those two dragons of his. Every time he managed to see those luminous serpents engulf Talon agents all he could think was, _No fucking wonder Genji looked like he went through a shredder._

The cyborg could forgive him all he liked, it didn't mean Jesse had to as well.

However that changed one night when he was out on a midnight stroll. He spotted the archer by the edge of the cliff-side. He sat doubled over, staring down at the black waves that steadily crashed into the rocks. He was wearing his usual black-and-blue robes – clothes he couldn’t help but describe as _elegant_. Despite his initial assumption, the scene was anything but serene; from where Jesse stood he saw Hanzo’s hands cling to the base of his throat. Each breath he took was ragged, gasping. His body racked and shivered. For a second, Jesse thought the man was dying.

Up until that point, the gunslinger hadn’t acknowledged the other man’s existence. Avoided him like the plague. Shot glares at the cafeteria. Refused to talk to him. But in that moment, after seeing the archer struggle to breathe so close to the cliffs… Jesse came to the conclusion that no one deserved that. No one deserved to be alone when struggling the way he was.

So the gunslinger sidled in beside him. Wrapped him up his old serape and wouldn’t leave his side until he calmed down. They ended up talking until the sun came back up.

That was eight years ago.

“Earth to Hanz. Come in,” Jesse said, patting his shoulder a few more times in the hope to get _something_ out of him.

“Hm?” was the reply. Hanzo blinked at him slowly. Then, as though he suddenly remembered that he was a part of the conversation he nodded his head. “Oh. Yes. That’s, urm, an odd note.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. The lights were on, but no one was home. He slid in closer, lowering his voice so that Zenyatta couldn’t hear him. “Having trouble sleeping again? Was it the… usual stuff?”

Hanzo looked down, going back to wrapping the ribbon. “No. I haven’t had problems like that in quite some time. You know this.”

“Yeah, I know. I know. Still, though, you seem a bit weird. And it’s clear as day that you haven’t slept, so excuse me for fretting. But I’d say I have a right too.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind recently. That is all.”

“Ya know if you talk to Angie about it or even Zen they could help you relax. I’m sure they know some breathing exercises or somethin’ like that. Or hell if you want to talk to me about it I’m all ears.”

He gave a small smile at that. “Thank you for your concern, Jesse. But honestly it is nothing to worry about. It isn’t serious, I promise you. I just… need to think a few things over. Nothing more.” Before he could press the subject further the older Shimada continued; “Any idea on who this allusive suitor might be?”

He leaned against the wall, fiddling with Peacekeeper in his hands. _She needs to be cleaned._ “Naw,” he said. “I’m not taking it seriously.”

There was a slight pause. Hanzo tied a knot onto one end of the ribbon. The gorgeous golden silk looked eerily similar to the one that kept the archer’s hair from his face all those years ago. So much so he wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Hanzo had always been a sentimental type.

“I see.” Hanzo raised his head, tilting it to the side as he looked at the gunslinger. Even when he was wrecked tired, those eyes could pierce into Jesse’s soul. “What exactly makes you feel this way?”

At this Jesse couldn’t help but chuckle, raising a hand up and down his body. “Hanz. I’m nearly in my fifties and I look like a desert hobo who’s had sun stroke a few times more than he should. I ain’t stealing any hearts, trust me.”

Hanzo shrugged his shoulders, his smile widening as he went back to his work. “Someone might find the ‘ _desert hobo_ ’ look attractive.”

He let out a snort. “Sure they do. Like I’ve said it’s probably someone jokin’. Not like it hasn't happened before. But I doubt I'll find out this time. No one saw them and I can’t make out their handwriting. It’ll forever remain a mystery.”

“Maybe it's for the best.”

“Maybe.” Without much thought he began to polish Peacekeeper’s silver finish with the end of his serape after noticing Zenyatta was almost finished his round. “Enough about me and my shit. What about yourself? Got anythin’ nice today? I know your brother is mighty popular ‘round this time of year.”

Hanzo shook his head dismissively. The last knot was tied – now Stormbow glimmered a nice contrasting yellow along with the blue and brown. “Those are his amusements, not mine. I have never received anything this time of year and more than likely never will.”

That made McCree raise an eyebrow. “Huh.”

“ _‘Huh’_ what, cowman?”

Jesse rolled his shoulders. Suddenly the room became a lot warmer than it originally was. “Wouldn't've guessed you were in the same boat as me,” he explained. “Thought people would be throwing themselves at your feet.”

Now it was Hanzo’s time to laugh. This caught Jesse’s attention; he glanced over to see the archer as he waved a hand dismissively with his laughter diminishing to a hearty chuckle before rising onto his feet, grabbing a hold of his quiver of arrows. Zenyatta was floating back over to them. The bullseye was completely obliterated – the very centre looked like it was burnt by one of Fareeha’s rockets.

All that destruction from one tiny ass omnic. No matter how many times he saw it, Jesse would never get over it.

“What are you laughing at, Shimada?” he asked as Zenyatta plunked down beside him. “What I say is the truth.”

 “Please,” Hanzo said, waiting for the target to flip over. With a soft _clunk_ the wall sunk in, spinning around to reveal a new bullseye before resetting. “You give me too much credit. I am not exactly delightful company.”

“Ah! I call bullshit!” he claimed. He gave the archer a cheeky wink. “You’re a handsome fellow, Hanz. Real nice too. The whole kit and caboodle. I’m sure someone will come along shortly and take you somewhere fancy.”

The reply wasn’t immediately. For a split second Hanzo cast his gaze to the ground, as if struggling to accept the compliment.

“Someday. Maybe,” Jesse finally heard him muse. “But that day is not today. And won't be for a long time, I'd imagine.”

Jesse watched him sized up the mark, raised Stormbow with an arrow already nocked on. Underneath the black sports top he saw Hanzo’s muscles tighten as he stared down his target. His breaths were slow, measured. Completely in focus.

Which was why he decided to ruin it.

“Ah, sure,” Jesse drawled, casually knocking back his hat. “If all else fails and in ten years time we're still single, I'll marry ya.”

Instead of firing the arrow, Hanzo pulled the string forward, dropping the bow down so he could glare at him. “Please don't tell me you actually think those pacts are a good idea.”

“I don't think they're a good idea. I think they're a _great_ idea.”

Letting out a sound of disgust, Hanzo merely rolled his eyes and set up his stance once more. “Every time I believe you cannot stoop any lower,” the older Shimada mumbled after the arrow hit the very centre, “you surprise me.”

“Just think about it for a few seconds.” Jesse raised his hands to rest them behind his back, shooting another wink at him while he was reloading. “You get all this goodness. For free. At fifty. Pretty sweet deal if you ask me.”

Once again he stood to fire. Except instead of looking at the target, he kept his sights on Jesse. His mouth was in a hard line. “Amazing,” he said in a flat monotone, letting the arrow fly. It hit just above the target, bouncing off of the wall and clattering to the floor.

Jesse pointed where the arrow landed. “Hey, hotshot. Made ya miss.” It took him everything he had not to smirk when the archer sheepishly wandered off to fetch the arrow. That must have clipped his horns a bit. But that didn’t stop Jesse from gloating. “It’s what you get for trying to show off.”

There was a huff. “I wasn’t trying to show off.”

“Yeah you were. Just admit it.” He didn’t. Naturally. Just went about grumbling like the old coot he was. This time Jesse rolled his eyes. “You know what, never mind. I take my proposal back. You’re not my type.”

There was an uncomfortable silence and stillness as his words drifted in the air. Out of the corner of his vision he saw Zenyatta perk up with curiosity. Even the practice bots seemed to stand in shock. Having no idea what the hell he said, Jesse slid further down into a slouch as Hanzo went back to aiming.

The mistake didn’t faze the rest of his performance. All ten arrows split together at the very centre of the target. True, a perfect score, but Jesse couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. There were small signs; Hanzo’s aquiline nose was scrunched up after each shot, something he only did when he was annoyed. His stance was stiff, on edge, not at all relaxed.

Soon it came to his turn again. There were no further exchanges. For reasons beyond his knowledge the banter had come to a dead halt. _Something is definitely wrong_ , he thought.

That didn’t stop him. His eyes barrelled down to the bullseye. Jesse tried to steady his hands as he aimed for the next shot. With a crack he fired, missing the bullseye entirely. Instead he hit the wall above it.

_Dang. Too far mate, too far. Steady does it._

After a few shots, Zenyatta finally spoke up to break the silence. “That reminds me,” he hummed, seating himself back into his spot. He began rummaging through the small pouch by his hip until he found a little pad.

“Do you plan on taking Mr. Santos out this evening?” he heard Hanzo ask.

“Indeed. We plan on going out to dinner tonight down in Catalan Bay. There’s a lovely pro-omnic restaurant there that also serves human food. I just need to ensure our table is booked.”

He went on to describe the restaurant for a few minutes. McCree did his round, but it was noticeably worse than the last time. No one made a comment on it – didn’t need to. It was obvious.

 _By god. Today is not my day._ _Cain’t even shoot center._ _Maybe my age is catching up to me._

He had hoped he’d live into his Overwatch days as long as any of the founders. True, they were one in a million. It was pure luck that they were still in the game. And luck wasn’t exactly kind to Jesse. He always had to rely on his smarts and skills to survive. Just 'cause trouble comes visiting doesn't mean you have to offer it a place to sit down.

Nevertheless, he had hoped his skills wouldn’t dull as quickly as they were. He needed to start praying the smarts didn’t leave him too or else he’d be a goner.

The gunslinger considered talking to Hanzo again after practice was over – when Zenyatta tended to race off to meditation class with Angela, Satya, and Genji. Leaving the two men to talk amongst themselves. However, it wasn't meant to be. A while later, Morrison’s voice echoed down from the speakers, ordering Hanzo to report to him about the next mission’s defensive manoeuvres. The archer excused himself after placing his bow and quiver on the stand before leaving.

“I'll finish my training this evening,” the Shimada assured them.

“You better!” Jesse called after him, wafting his hat in front of his warm face. “Bad enough when my shot has gone to the hole. I don't need your aim slippin’ too when I'm surrounded by thugs.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. With a small wave he bid them both farewell.

They had only grown closer since their first interaction all those years ago. They were older now. Greyer. The joints didn't work as smoothly as they did back when they first met. Nevertheless, no matter what was happening, they had each other. If one was in trouble, the other would help them out. If things went awry on a mission they'd always team up. They stood back-to-back together. Probably always will.

Despite what he initially thought, Hanzo did become his partner. The best one he ever had.

And he could tell it wasn’t just exhaustion. He was frustrated.

As soon as the archer slipped out of sight, he turned to Zenyatta. The monk was floating beside him, inspecting one of his golden orbs as they rested.

“Hey,” he began. “Don't suppose you know what's eating him?”

The omnic turned to face him, blue dotted eyes flashing. “No. I do not know what ails him.”

Short and sweet. It was unusually blunt for the omnic, however Jesse left the conversation lie. The two sat together, relishing their cool-off period. They made idle chit chat. The usual things; the weather, their next mission, stuff like that. It was easy to yarn the hours away with Zenyatta. The fella certainly had interesting stories to tell, that was for sure.

Though the gunslinger only lend half an ear to his tales that morning.

Hanzo liked to keep things hidden. Didn’t care to be read like an open book. It was understandable given his background. But the gunslinger could tell. He could always tell. After knowing certain fellas long enough, you start to sense it in the air.

The question he couldn’t fathom was; at what?

He knew he wouldn’t be able to figure it out. If he was going to try and help, he had no other choice but to wait until Hanzo was free again.

Trying to keep his mind occupied, he went back to toying over the flowers.

There were only a few people who knew about his preference for lilies, so that eliminated a lot of people on the base. It couldn't have been any of the couples as they were probably too busy fawning over their sweethearts. That certainly knocked out a good few contenders, such as Fareeha or Genji or Lena or Torb, but left him with people with no clear motives. He wasn't that close with either Bridgette or Hana, so it wasn't them. Hanzo didn't strike him as the type to play pranks. Ana always forgot about Valentine's Day.

That only left two suspects; Reinhardt or Gabriel. It would have been a clear winner if it wasn't for the fact that they didn't return to base that morning, and he suspected they were planted at night.

Then an idea hit him.

“Hold on a sec,” he said, rising to his feet. He went over to a panel and screen by the door, tapping the screen. The ominous black turned into a cool icy blue as Athena’s logo faded underneath his finger.

Her calm voice washed over the speakers. “Agent McCree. How may I help you?”

“Exactly what do you plan on doing?” Zenyatta asked from his perch.

Letting his command answer his question, McCree went on to say; “Athena, hun, do you mind showing me last night’s recording of the common room? Starting at twelve-ish? I’d appreciate it greatly.”

“Very well,” she said, and the screen became a dull grey and black. A little spinning navy circle appeared as she tried to gather the footage.

Without any warning Zenyatta’s head was suddenly in front of the screen, his blue dotted eyes staring back at him. “I don’t think you should do this, McCree,” he said, pushing back in the hope of obscuring whatever Athena was showing him.

Unamused the gunslinger nudged his head to the side. “I wanna know who’s been playing me. Scooch your metal ass over so I can see who it is.”

“But what if no one is playing you? Their actions may be genuine and as they did not put their name down they wish to be anonymous.”

“Zen, we both know that ain’t true. C’mon. Move.”

Letting out a low warble of defeat the omnic moved out of the way just in time for the footage to play. Jack and Reinhardt were seated on the couch, drinking tea along with Ana. No flowers. Jesse stepped forward and pressed to the side of the screen, fast-forwarding through the footage. He watched the trio swiftly finish their drinks and head to their bunks, dulling the lights as they went. An hour passed before someone passed through the common room again.

As expected, a certain vase of flowers was in their hands.

Unexpectedly, that person was none other than Hanzo Shimada.

He let the video play at normal speed, watching as the archer carefully set down the flowers upon the table. He moved his head from side to side, as though searching for any onlookers. Then he pulled a small card from his jacket pocket, leaning on the table as he wrote. After clipping it onto the stand he began fixing a few orchids that had slipped out of place while he had moved. He took a few steps back, looking at his work for a second or two before pulling a red ribbon from his jacket pocket. When the bow was completed he once again stood before it, eyes looking up and down. As if he were inspecting for the tiniest flaw.

McCree’s mouth hung open as he gawked at the screen. He could see the archer take three deep breaths in and exhale, turning to scamper down the hall.

He pressed the fast forward button again and watched the night became morning. Genji and Lena were the first to enter the common room – on their way to their early morning jog – first looking at the flowers before zooming off again like giggling schoolgirls. Gabriel swept by like an ominous black shadow. Reinhardt trailed him as they went to the hall, diverging paths. Then Mei came in, followed closely by Lucio. Eventually Angela joined them around the table and soon he saw himself appear through the door.

Beside him, Zenyatta covered his eyes with his hands. “I knew I should have pressed further,” he said to himself.

For a few beats the gunslinger stood in silence, unable to fully comprehend what he just saw. Hanzo was the one who left the present for him. He replayed that morning's training session over again in his mind, now seeing everything in a new light. How quiet he was, what he was referring to when he said he had a lot on his mind, how stiff he seemed to get after he told him he thought the whole thing was just a prank, how he blatantly said people could find him attractive, how Jesse had said he wasn't his type and the silence that followed—

“Dad-blame it. I’m an idiot,” he finally said.

Putting a halt to his own thoughts of self-deprivation he raced out of the room, apologising to Zenyatta as he ran.

 

xXx

 

It was six in the evening before Hanzo returned to the training area. By that point the sun was setting, lighting up the sky in brilliant pinks and oranges. Naturally both Jesse and Zenyatta had left hours ago. In their stead was Amélie Lacroix, who had her sniper rifle pointed down at the target as it moved to side to side. She released five shots, all hitting the practice bot. It crumbled into pieces before their eyes.

“ _Magnifique_ ,” she purred, tapping the side of her helmet. With an electric whine it released. Already the bot was rebuilding itself back up, blue sparks shooting where flame met metal. Catching sight of the archer she turned her head over her shoulder. “I will be done in just a moment and then it’s yours.”

As soon as the words left her mouth the bot sat up. Its body was restored. Instantly her helmet snapped into place, red eyes glowing as she set up her next shot.

It was with a curt nod that Hanzo went over to the stand where his weapons had lain since that morning.  

 _And so another day is almost done_ , he thought to himself as he moved to pick up the quiver. It had gone past him swiftly, just like the days before. Hanzo had noticed that the longer he stayed with Overwatch, the faster time had become.

Back when he was a youth in Hanamura, time would move painfully slow. An hour would almost feel like a century. A day, a lifetime. It became even slower after leaving his home after the loss of his brother. And for the first few weeks of coming to Gibraltar, it stayed the same. At the time he was only taking an invaluable offer. Overwatch was about to give him shelter. Security. Food. A feeling of stability he hadn't felt in years. He couldn’t refuse it. But in the long run, he received much, _much_ more.

The archer closed his eyes, momentarily lost in a golden haze of nostalgia. Remembering all of the initially stiff small talk, the drinking that followed, the hangovers, the joking, the eventual laughter. The dark times that loomed over them all and how they overcame their challenges. Over time his relationship with Genji healed. He managed to overcome his demons. And made great allies in the process. Some more important than others.

Gibraltar had become a home to him and his new family. And Hanzo found himself not minding that simple fact.

He opened his eyes again with a long sigh.

It was then he noticed something jutting of his quiver full of arrows. Furrowing his brow, he reached out and slid the foreign object out, revealing it to be a rose. Its red petals were slightly curled at the edges – a telling sign that this was here for a while. He stood there in confusion, rotating the singular flower in his hands.

There was a small tag on the stalk. He read the message inside;

 

_To: Hanzo_

_The term is actually ''Happy Valentines Day' but, eh, you were close. Mind meeting me by the Comm Tower when you’re free?_

 

There was no name attached.

Feeling his stomach drop to the floor he looked up at Amélie. With the bot once again destroyed she was locking her gun as she sulked away from the area.

“Did you see who left this?” he called to her, holding the flower up as she passed him. All she did in reply was shrug her shoulders.

She didn’t need to answer him. He already knew who it was.

And it scared him endlessly.

He did as the message instructed him to do. Hanzo set back his weapons and left for the Comm Tower. However it never stated he should move swiftly. And swiftly move he did not; instead he took to a plodding pace and the longest route possible, allowing himself time to evaluate before the inevitable meeting.

 _How did he find out?_ he asked himself with each step. The rose was still clutched in his hands. He stared down at it as he moved. _What mistake did you make?_

He thought he had been careful – no, _knew_ he had. Hanzo hadn’t taken any risks. He had gone out early the day prior to the florist. Kept them hidden in his private quarters until nightfall. He had made sure every soul in the facility was asleep before setting them down in the common room. He had moved as silently as falling snow. Applied decades of training while scurrying down the dusky halls. Wrote in capitals so his scrawl would be harder to recognize.

Where did he mess up?

Was it possible that Genji recognised the writing and told Jesse? Unlikely. Even if he did, Genji would not reveal the identity of the sender. For all of his faults, the younger Shimada respected his brother’s privacy. Especially on matters such as this.

Then was is Miss Oxtron or Miss Vaswani who spoke out? Again, doubtful. True, they have teased him for years about how often Hanzo would dedicate his time to McCree. However their comments were mindless. Made to make him scoff and annoyed. (Often times it worked.) Neither woman knew the truth about how Hanzo felt.

Suddenly, the archer found himself at the bottom of the staircase leading towards the Comm Tower. In just a few seconds he’d come face-to-face with his mistakes. He was convinced he’d find McCree pacing like a caged lion. Probably itching to ask him what the hell Hanzo was thinking.

In truth Hanzo didn’t know himself. Not _quite_.

Biting down on his bottom lip, the archer began his ascent up the flight of stairs. He moved carefully, holding onto the railing with a hand as he climbed. _It doesn’t matter how he found out_ , he thought to himself. _What’s done is done._

How much of an idiot he must have looked. A fool for believing that McCree would like such a childish gift. For believing there was even a chance he might reciprocate. Their friendship was ruined, that was for certain. Things had changed too drastically for it to ever be the same. Needlessly complicated by a pitiful crush. Hanzo could have slapped himself. He should have left things the way they were. He shouldn’t have convinced himself of a fool’s errand—

Hanzo’s train of thought was interrupted when he reached the top of the roof. On the flat floor interconnecting one tower to another was a red blanket. On top of it was McCree, who sat with his legs spread out as he gazed at the crimson sea. His rugged face was cast in a warm, soft orange glow from the retiring sun. His serape was clung tightly around his shoulders, more for comfort than warmth. A cigar was hanging from his lips. Smoke curled up into the air, dancing in rings before dissipating.

Unable to stop himself the archer let out a small sigh at the sight, leaning a shoulder against the wall. He made no move to alert the gunslinger of his presence.  
  
The old Blackwatch agent could still surprise him. Never stopped the night they first spoke on the cliffside.

The biggest probably being after a mission in Hunan. All four of them were packed in a small hovercar on the way to Lijiang. They were set to rondevu with Lena and Winston at Lucheng Interstellar the next day for yet _another_ mission. This made the fourth in a row in three days. Everyone was restless, cranky, and overall in a horrible mood. The constant rain didn’t help, either. Especially when he had to divert from main roads due to flooding. Throughout the entire journey Hana and Genji bickered about trivial subjects he couldn’t begin to understand – something about “burning hells” and someone named Azmodan? Honestly it was gibberish to him and he was glad that as soon as night had befallen he heard nothing but their faint snoring.

Despite his promise to McCree to keep him company as he drove, Hanzo had drifted asleep himself. His head rested against the doorframe, feeling the gentle hum of the car’s engine on his temple. The second that hum disappeared his eyes opened to find the car had come to a stop at the side of the road and McCree was nowhere to be seen.

The panic that rose in his chest subsided when his tired eyes made out McCree’s dark figure stooping onto a knee. Before him was a bush. Its branches shook in the harsh wind. The rain fell hard onto the gunslinger’s back, dripping off of his hat. His red-plaid shirt was soaked through. He could faintly hear him sniff the air. Hanzo whipped his eyes with the back of his hand. _What on earth…?_

After blinking a few times did he finally notice; decorated between the leaves were small, white flowers that shone brightly against the night. He could see McCree’s hands plucking one of them before he rushed back to the safety of the hovercar.

Carefully the gunslinger closed the door behind him, trying not to disturb anyone else. His eyes widened in surprise upon seeing someone awake. “Aw, shit, sorry Hanz,” he whispered quietly. “I didn’t mean to disturb.”  

Hanzo didn’t say anything. He merely watched as he casually he took off his hat, placing it on the dashboard. He shook his hair with his left hand in the hope to dry it somewhat. Spatters of rain fell onto Hanzo’s face, making him recoil. After that he placed the flower into the cup holder between them. It’s long, delicate petals were sprinkled with water, making it look even more delicate than before.  

Jesse followed his gaze, understanding the question without it being said. “Lilies,” he said. The man was grinning ear-to-ear, as though he were a child on Christmas morning. “Never seen them in the wild before. The war wasn’t nice to them. You only find them in shops now.” He clipped on his seatbelt, starting up the car once more. “I just wanted to look at them real quick before we left. Now go on. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up when I’m ready to switch.”

For the remainder of the ride, the archer was silent. He closed his eyes and leaned back into his seat, appearing to have fallen back into oblivion. Instead his mind raced at what he had just witnessed.  

He supposed that’s when he started to truly admire McCree.  When the gunslinger first began to slip into his mind much more often than he should have. Whenever he’d pat his shoulder or take a hold of his arm, Hanzo found himself wanting the touch to linger just a bit longer. Over time he became more paranoid on missions, always searching for that flash of red-and-orange in the carnage. He found himself smiling more around his presence, becoming easier to make laugh. Sometimes he visited his dreams, leaving the archer rather winded when he woke in the morning. He’d remember limbs being tangled together, lips crashing. Nothing more after that.

Something about the scene in Hunan stuck with him. Made him see Jesse McCree in a completely different light. And it hadn’t changed since.

Just as he began to wonder when McCree would notice him, the man's head turned to him. “Howdy there,” he said, holding the cigar between his teeth. He tipped his hat with a metallic hand. “Lovely day we’re having.”  
  
Whatever trance Hanzo was under was suddenly gone. He snapped back into focus with a cough, straightening himself. “You sent for me,” he stated, holding up the rose as some sort of proof of his statement.  
  
McCree nodded slowly. “Ah. I see. No beating around the bush then.” The gunslinger rose to his feet, flicking the cigar to the ground and crushing it with the sole of his foot. In the process he took off his hat, holding it to his chest like some sort of shield. “So… I figured out who sent me those flowers.” His dark brown eyes never left Hanzo’s. “It was you.”  
  
Hanzo took a deep breath, feeling the shame wash over him. _As I suspected._  
  
The archer gave a solemn nod. He knew where this was headed. He began to take a few steps back, slipping back into the staircase. “I did not mean to offend you,” he said, bowing his head. “I swear that was not my intention. It was a mistake. One that I wholeheartedly apologise for. I didn’t know what I was thinking and I should have known better than—”

Jesse moved forward, lacing a hand on the small of Hanzo’s back. Stopping him dead in his tracks.  
  
“Hey, now, hold on,” he purred.  
  
They were close now; foreheads almost touching. It wasn’t anything new. Sometimes they paired up during physical combat training, winding up knotted together on the mat laughing and bickering while Ana shouted at them. There were also all of those missions where they were shoved into small boxes or had to huddle together for warmth. But this time was different. This time, both parties knew there was an emotional context to the intentional gesture.

In that moment Hanzo wanted to flee and never come back. To leave his home and begin his life anew. Somewhere far, far away from Overwatch’s influence so he’d never see his face ever again.  
  
It was Jesse’s calming tone that kept him anchored where he stood. “Easy there, partner. There was no offense taken. What you did was really sweet.”  
  
Hanzo blinked. His head came back up, eyes wide. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah. It's the nicest thing a fella has done for me in years.” The gap opened back up when McCree stepped to the side, presenting the blanket he had laid out. “And I thought about it and – well you told me that you never had a Valentine’s and I thought that – ya know – I thought it would be nice if…”  
  
He left the words hanging, allowing him to put two and two together.  
  
Hanzo wasn’t exactly quick to pick up on his implication. He waited a couple of beats for him to continue before he knocked his head to the side. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine?”  
  
The gunslinger shrugged his broad shoulders. “Kinda. I was actually asking if you’d wanna watch the sunset but yeah being my Valentine works as well. Unless you say no then nah this never happened. And from that point onwards I won’t know you. And I’ll have to leave Overwatch and change my name. Get some facial reconstruction. The usual.”

Hanzo paused for a moment. The man’s cheeks stayed the same dark brown. No blush in sight. The only hint of nerves were his stammers. Was the offer genuine? He couldn’t quite tell. Jesse was hard to read at the best of times. He was always so cool, so confident and self-assured. He never knew what was real or what was supposed to be a joke.

“If this is out of pity—” he began, but stopped as soon as McCree shook his head.

“I ain’t messing around. I’m serious, Hanz. I swear.”

Trying to come off as playful, the older Shimada decided to test the waters; “I thought you said I wasn't your type?”  
  
McCree’s hand went behind his neck, giving it a quick scratching. “Funny thing. Remember all that stuff I said about you being nice and handsome and all? Yeah.” Finally the eye contact broke when his eyes went to the ground. “I thought about it. Maybe once… or twice. If, you know, we could ever…”  
  
Again, the statement was left open-ended. He was dancing – trying not to say it. Leaving Hanzo to figure out the pieces himself.  
  
“Why?” was all he could think to ask. At this stage he must have looked comical with his mouth open wide. Hanzo looked up at the gunslinger, his eyebrows knitted together. “Why haven’t you said anything?”  
  
“I started thinking ‘bout it awhile back. Never did anything cause, if I’m honest, I didn’t think you fancied guys let alone me.” His eyes flickered back up. “What about you? What’s your excuse?”  
  
At this, Hanzo stayed silent. Unsure as to where to even begin.  
  
The two men stood in the hallway, still as statues. Unanswered questions lingering in their heads. Waiting for whatever was supposed to happen next. How long had things been this way? How many years were the two of them secretly completing? How much time had they wasted over being too afraid and too prideful to simply ask?  
  
Hanzo tucked a silver strand of air behind his ear. Despite how nerves coursed through his body, he managed to crack a small smile. He, too, placed a hand behind the gunslinger’s back, guiding him back out onto the pathway.  
  
“I would be honoured to be your Valentines,” he told McCree.  
  
McCree let out a long, shaky breath. His cool composure was suddenly gone, replaced by a weak-kneed fool who squashed his hat on top of his greying hair. “Oh thank be the lord. I was worried you’d say no and I’d actually have to scamper off into witness protection.”  
  
“Shame. I’m tempted to change my mind now.”  
  
“Don’t be saying stuff like that, darlin’. You’d miss me too much.”  
  
“Oh? Would I now?”  
  
“Hey. I’m meant to be the sarcastic fuck in this relationship. Quit stealing my job.”  
  
Together they walked back out into the warm rays, setting themselves down on the blanket. Neither of them was going to waste any more time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. Hopefully I haven’t George Lucased my own work and made it worse! :D
> 
> In all seriousness though, the reason why I did this was because there’s this awesome zine coming out (please support it in anyway you can; http://mchanzine.tumblr.com/ Applications end 10th of May!) and I wanted to clean this fic up as an application. You know, correct a few mistakes. Maybe arrange a few lines. Harmless stuff. But after a while I still wasn’t happy with it. To put it simply I feel like I’ve improved majorly over the past few weeks and the work didn’t show it. So I decided to re-upload it. The fundamentals are still well intact but I feel like it was executed better. Don’t worry if you really miss the old version of the fic drop a comment and I’d be more than happy to give it to you. It just won’t be up here on this site anymore because I am personally no longer happy with it. 
> 
> Before I forget! Thank you so much for all of the kudos. I'm so glad to see so many people happy with something I have made. And as an apology here are all of the wonderful people who left a comment on the old version of the fic; ClaroQueQuiza, Omano, CaptainRivaini, Mrs_Nicole, Ilyen, TheRainBearer. Thank you all! Every single one of your words brightened up my day. As per usual all feedback is welcome, be it good or bad. Just comment below and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. You can also find me on my tumblr; thetallirishflower.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. Hopefully I haven’t George Lucased anything and made it worse! :D
> 
> In all seriousness though, the reason why I did this was because there’s this awesome zine coming out (please support it in anyway you can it's a really great cause and applications end on May 10th so go apply if your interested in art or writing for McHanzo all for two great charities; http://mchanzine.tumblr.com/ ) and I wanted to clean this fic up as an application. You know, correct a few mistakes. Maybe arrange a few lines. Harmless stuff. But after a while I still wasn’t happy with it. To put it simply I feel like I’ve improved majorly over the past few weeks and the work didn’t show it. So I decided to re-upload it. The fundamentals are still well intact but I feel like it was excacuted better. Don’t worry if you really miss the old version of the fic drop a comment and I’d be more than happy to give it to you. It just won’t be up here on this site anymore because I am personally no longer happy with it. 
> 
> As an apology here are all of the wonderful people who gave a comment; ClaroQueQuiza, Omano, CaptainRivaini, Mrs_Nicole, Ilyen, TheRainBearer. Thank you all! Every single one of your words brightened up my day. As per usual all feedback is welcome, be it good or bad. Just comment below and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. You can also find me on my tumblr; thetallirishflower.tumblr.com 
> 
> And yes. Hana and Genji's bickering is a reference to Diablo. If none of you guys have seen the reveal trailer for Heroes of the Storm that recently dropped OH BOI!!!!
> 
> EDIT (21/05/2017): http://yenwenlen.tumblr.com/post/160893700287/eight-years-after-recall-jesse-receives-a-bouquet My beautiful friend Yen made this gorgeous fanart and I'm crying look at it


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